Life of the traveler

When he told me he was leaving I felt like a vase which has just smashed. There were pieces of me all over the tidy, tan tiles. He kept talking, telling me why he was leaving, ex plaining it was for the best, I could do better, it was his fault and not mine. I had heard it before many times and yet somehow was still not immune; perhaps one did not become immune to such felony.

　　He left and I tried to get on with my life. I filled the kettle and put it on to boil, I took out my old red mug and filled it with coffee watching as each coffee granule slipped in to the bone china. That was what my life had been like, endless omissions of coffee granules, somehow never managing to make that cup of coffee.

　　Somehow when the kettle piped its finishing warning I pretended not to hear it. That’s what Mike’s leaving had been like, sudden and with an awful finality. I would rather just wallow in uncertainty than have things finished. I laughed at myself. Imagine getting all philosophical and sentimental about a mug of coffee. I must be getting old.

　　And yet it was a young woman who stared back at me from the mirror. A young woman full of promise and hope, a young woman with bright eyes and full lips just waiting to take on the world. I never loved Mike anyway. Besides there are more important things. More important than love, I insist to myself firmly. The lid goes back on the coffee just like closure on the whole Mike experience.

　　He doesn’t haunt my dreams as I feared that night. Instead I am flying far across fields and woods, looking down on those below me. Suddenly I fall to the ground and it is only when I wake up that I realize I was shot by a hunter, brought down by the burden of not the bullet but the soul of the man who shot it. I realize later, with some degree of understanding, that Mike was the hunter holding me down and I am the bird that longs to fly. The next night my dream is similar to the previous nights, but without the hunter. I fly free until I meet another bird who flies with me in perfect harmony. I realize with some relief that there is a bird out there for me, there is another person, not necessarily a lover perhaps just a friend, but there is someone out there who is my soul mate. I think about being a broken vase again and realize that I have glued myself back together, what Mike has is merely a little part of my time in earth, a little understanding of my physical being. He has only, a little piece of me.

Young love

Often sigh for a withered leaf, often are surprised by the moment the butterfly flutters, often for a girl in the crowd, the midnight, tossing and turning. The spring meeting, the round moon, that night. With chasing the dream, in the warm sunshine, the memory, presents the original love, time passes, the dandelion flying, can only hide in the dream, carved in the heart, afraid to let more people know.
Spring to summer, the lamp lights went out. How many times, in the boundless huge, lost self. How many times, in a strange land, stroked the dry soul. At the intersection of come and go, meet countless traveler, countless scenery, cloud bird feifei, fallen petal aromas. And oneself, drift, figure alone, the wind blew over the vicissitudes of the face, the boundless universe, where to pick up a comfort, where to find it acacia tears, where to find the dream story. The beautiful first love, the young innocent smile, that gives people a warm farewell, the powerful encouragement. Passed in the spring, summer, through the autumn, the winter wilderness, think about the past, walk now, in the diary in the future, mentioned that once meet again.
How many dreams, uncontrollable coughing footprints of time. That year, the youth we, ditto a middle school, the same language teacher, always running under the blue sky, but you have your direction, I have my dream. My classroom is next to the in your class. Every time after school, you can look at our classroom quietly, shallow smile to me, every time a thirsty, you will bring a bottle of meng mountain spring for me. But I was very shy, can only pretend to look at the book with his head down, did not dare to look at your face. Because you are my goddess in the heart, Dream beauty pro like the hands of the ice, if see you one eye, afraid of suddenly melt, the moments without trace.
That year, we go up a university, a playground military training, the sunshine, walking in the rain, the smell of birds, the seasons change. I will stand behind you, and you have not found my obsession. Countless coincidence, shear constant love, I finally know your mind, you are in my heart left a position for me, but I was silent, still smile to you, let you ashamed, sad for a long time.
Spring of that year, full of campus, we travel together, climbing the mountain, the closest place to dream, you say you like me, sitting in the sunset, looking down at all, the sky, plains, streams, is a vibrant scene, with all my heart to excited float in the sky. A rainy day, however, are you out of the things in the home, you have to go back to deal with Dream beauty pro, and you go, never returned to the campus, because you are the boss of the house. Then married a foreigner, leave me a man, falls in the empty campus, walk slowly, thoughts and care, and my first love, as the stream, away, can not find your shadow. Those happy, those dreams at sunset, can only hide in the dream, in heart.
Used to have the sea, ever dare not say the love, once you missed the scenery. As the clouds drift across, there is only beautiful, have, have. That a wisp of spring neon, quietly and wanders in my heart. Small palm spread the moon spring flowers, filled with the years trace, but can't cover the shy love profusion, in small heart. Those thick heart, in the sun be matchless, gazing at certain times, once the rub shoulders, autumn, winter laughter, but only in one thousand, is to go with the flow, met and Ann.
Always dreaming that I am in the time of the port smile, laugh at my ignorance, laugh at life helpless, smile of time wasted. Gazing at that once had predestination, fingers clasped afternoon, count the stars of the night, today, Dream beauty pro from the page, then miss, pleasure; Worried about again, intoxicating. At that time, the two heart dazed, could even be intersection. Do you like poetry, I like prose; Do you like to travel, I like photography. Today, photos, the camera still, and you as a wife.
Seasonal variation, the Milky Way of stars. Ever think of looking for a spray flow for you, look for the moon to delight you, find a cloud for your elegant, find a picture book will you draw. Who lit dream with tears, the memory of a mill and, upon the sink in the bottom of the heart of the beautiful melody. Drinking glasses of missing, sitting on a blue trail, the permanent love, after meet, is hidden in a dream.
Thought of caring and fate, had assumed a spring footprint and down. The figure bloom bright warmth, with the young love Dream beauty pro, in the river of life, consult encyclopedia, with that pen, with paper and ink, carved, such as poetry, hidden in a dream, always not forgotten.

The sea son back

Windswept, take away everything on your mind is multifarious, between independent Yu Haitian sleep, only to see you back...

That day, the first snow of winter, snow flying, flying. Free and easy, unruly, but touches the ground, namely vestige of nostalgia, the ground is always without a trace of snow.

Sea son, always choose silence, Dream beauty pro from that moment.

Once, the laughter of the scenes are final. Ever see the sea together, imagine the endless calm sea, sun shining layers of ripples, waves continually flocked to the coast. Through the soft sand and pick up the colorful shells. With sand heaped up the castle in his mind, and then bury themselves in the sand, listen to the sea of words. Watch the seagulls wings and fly, and then back to the sea. Together, think about the blue sky, imagine the vast deep sky, set up a beautiful rainbow after the rain, the sun spills at glory. Took hold of the opposite ends of the line, flying ideal kite. In baiyun tectonic on your picture, standing under a blue sky, feeling broad day. See the eagle wings soar, will become a little disappeared in the deep blue sky.

That day, the coast, Dream beauty pro caked with crushed ice. The wind rolled up, with a fear, it fell out. Starfish have been rushed to the seaside, fragmented, conceived by the sea, and eventually abandoned by the sea. That day, rain or shine, the sky clouds to block the sunshine, the snow from the born day, for days, but eventually disappear, without a trace.

If you want to ask: like the sky or the sea? How to answer.

As a result, no matter how to choose, when we looked around, will the Haitian a line.

How time flies, flying flocculant Yang contributed to spring. Is still elegant, still freely. It not from the day, but also because of the day. Sea ice is already disappear, layers of ripples, still with the singing of birds.

After the time flies, at the beginning of the summer solstice, thunder and lightning, little drops of summer rain, brought all the red. The day is still clear, the sea waves were still.

Sea son, always choose the over everything, from that moment.

Sea son away, leaving only memories. For the waves created the heaven and earth, Dream beauty pro hard sell sea waves created the sea. Gave birth to the sea waves, the wave finally to return to the arms of the sea, waves, after all, there's no two ways about it. Day built the stage for the cloud, the cloud ornament is the depth of the day. Gave birth to the blue sky white clouds, white clouds finally to return to the depths of the day, the cloud will also have no choice.

Memory, Haitian between independently. Faintly, the Haitian a line, the sea son return...

This is love

A three, to friends and love, that is love.

Because of love, so you will involuntarily to take care to the person I love love HKUE amec, bear the liability. Then, some say, love is responsibility.

And I said, love is happiness.

Mother is always talking in your ear, careful to take care of your life daily life; His father always when you fall down, telling you where to fall where to climb up. This is love, is the great parent's selfless love to you; This is happiness, with parents' love, that is happiness.

Most of the time, we will ask, what is love? Is to give? Is the pay? Or harvest?

I say love is a thing, is to give each other, each other. Love, warm you, warm me, too.

No matter what will become of the world, love is a timeless topic. Even if the seas run dry and the rocks crumble, even if the heavens and the earth, even if things become kuwata, next life will meet with you, this is love Dream beauty pro. Between heaven and earth, there is such a man waiting to meet with you and get to know each other, know each other, and grow old together, that is your happiness. Love is one thing, it is a warm each other to the old.

Buddha said, former five hundred times and only for this life together. As time flow to, the appearance go flowers, old, love is in heart.

Love, not words, don't care about poor riches and honour. It can actually very simple. Even if it's just a look, even if it's just a bowl of porridge, as long as there is love, is happiness.

Happiness will always continue, but love, also will not die as time goes by, it will have been passed down, warm life forever, keep people happy life.

Life cycle, the four seasons alternate, simple is love, Dream beauty pro is happiness. It is like a bouquet of sunshine, so gentle breeze into you my heart. The boundless huge crowd, we are strangers to each other. But, we can meet, meet both decree by destiny. Love, sometimes it is so simple.

Simple love, it will bring happiness, will also bring you, then we grow old together, happiness forever.

Through the day

On the tip of flowers, the wind swaying, looking back, no left. With full of pity, to pick up, but dissipated without trace.

3 short summer night, the night after, the east of the micro white has slowly dizzy. Houses, trees are already visible, crowing bark has far and near to smell. Three more than half, mobile phone woke me up on time regularly, use clean water to remove hazy sleepiness, walking downstairs. When people are still in the enron sleep, I have walked on the way to the company.

Such a life has lasted half, only desire is to see the sun in the first morning light. How I want to send this first ray of sunshine, harvest in lonely travel on the road, in the early spent several hours during the day than others.

However, life doesn't always the sun is shining. For three consecutive days of rain, the heart is wet, the air is stuffy, Dream beauty pro hard sell let a person to breathe. Sometimes, with more than ten minutes, hope the rain to Muse. Behind the tightly packed with rain curtain, we can see more than ten years ago yesterday, but not only a shade between tomorrow. Tomorrow there will be a surprise? Or the copy today? Someone says: the brilliancy of the tomorrow, is due to the efforts of today; Efforts of today, tomorrow will not necessarily succeed, don't work hard today, tomorrow will not succeed. But, who can say, tomorrow is still in the mechanical repetition of today. How many tomorrow, just as the accumulation of today!

Work hard, hard efforts, Dream beauty pro hard sell to be better. Give your family a safe, also give yourself a replacement. More than ten years ago yesterday, just live for yourself, more than a dozen years later, is for the sake of family alive, never think of oneself, did not dare to think. Because I do not know when, have carrying a shoulder responsibility, bound to fly wings.

Of course, the home is not a burden. But you are tired, perched harbour; After an injury, can get warm comfort. No home, like a have no feet, always flying birds, habitat, has crashed.

Sweating, bones and muscles fatigue or resentment. Everything is your choice, the choice, will not regret it. This is the pattern of life, own build towers, lay the a bit, once collapsed, life has been overthrown.

Sometimes, also can learn ah Q, comfort with spiritual victory method cannot balance state of mind. According to day, way according to go Dream beauty pro hard sell. Believe that life will be easy. When after the rain, sunny.

No time, not afraid; Since love words, then write the poem in the way:

I took the night clothes, step by step toward the dawn. Left hand touch the pulse of the right hand, dong, dong, prove that he is still alive.

I walk in someone else's dream, at the moment to find belongs to own dream. The leaves rustling, is stirring the strings, it is the wind's hand, to the lonely traveler.

In the way of the dawn, the shadow along with you, that is light partner. With my steps, measurement of my life, how far, it takes a lifetime to calculate.

Later, at about. I only see the side face of the sun, then, was submerged in the hills behind. I'm not going to chase the sun, don't want to like kuafu hardened. The sun also rises. Sunset afterglow, enough I appreciate, nu skin like pigment of life, daub on the paper of memory.

After dinner with his family, have three hours is my free time. Paved with paper and pen was lost their family, life trivia, finely flower leaves to come in. , may be just a moment, yuhua after dying, I found him not, but still a "net" deep, hard work. Because, in my past few hours during the day, night out of the rich, not all be wasted.